


The Aftereffects

by VampirePaladin



Category: Power Rangers
Genre: Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen, Trauma, world building
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-27
Updated: 2014-06-27
Packaged: 2018-02-06 10:40:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1855042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampirePaladin/pseuds/VampirePaladin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She struggles with the aftermath of a monster attack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Aftereffects

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rivulet027](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rivulet027/gifts).



She sat at her desk in her bedroom. She tried to ignore the sound of the TV. Her mother was watching it again, no doubt glued to it in case there was another monster attack. They seemed to come on an almost weekly basis. She didn’t want to hear about it. Right now she wanted to shut out the world and focus on the text book lying open in front of her. She had to pass this test and the there was only way to accomplish that.

This was actually the make-up test. She had not meant to fall behind on her studying and failing her history test. A monster had turned her into a doll. It had taken two days for the Power Rangers to defeat it. She turned back to normal almost instantly at that point. When she tried to explain to her teacher, Mr. Ghunt just said that she should have started studying sooner and it was entirely her fault to not be prepared for being a monster attack victim.

Mr. Ghunt sucked.

She couldn’t concentrate. All she could think about was the feeling when that monster’s smoky breathe had enveloped her. 

She had breathed in and then she couldn’t breathe out. None of her muscles would work. Legs, lungs, heart, none of them would follow her mental commands. The scariest part was that she wasn’t suffocating. Then she had started to shrink. Her bones grew softer and softer, weaker than hair. In the end she was on the sidewalk, a little doll staring straight forward without even able to move her eyes. 

The monster had skipped away. She stayed there. The rain came down. She was picked up and put in a cardboard box. Her head was against the crotch of another doll. Still more were piled on top of her. This was where she stayed until she was suddenly a normal human again.

In her bedroom in the present she glanced at the door. She could see the top of the steps. She got up from her office chair and closed the door. She didn’t want to hear the news. She couldn’t hear the news. Just thinking about it made her breathe faster and faster. 

No, she needed to study. If she failed this re-test then her entire grade in history would be in jeopardy. She moved back to the desk, picked up her text book and moved to the bed.

Why did the monster have to attack her? Had she done something to draw its attention to her? Is there something different that she could have done? Why didn’t the Powers Rangers come sooner to save her? 

She was breathing faster and faster. The thoughts tumbled out over and over in an avalanche of feelings. They grew more and more dangerous. They challenged her self-worth and faith in those around her.

In the reflection of her desk lamp she saw her oak dresser. She closed her eyes, pushed herself up, turned and crossed the hard wood floor to it. She knelt down and opened the second drawer from the bottom. With one hand she blindly reached into the back until she felt familiar fabric. She tugged out Dr. Lumpy Bunny, a rather old stuffed, pink rabbit wearing a white coat.

Dr. Lumpy Bunny was not a talking stuffed animal. He was not special. If he were, he would have prescribed a hug. So, that is what the girl did. She hugged the bunny that had gotten her through thunder storms, a funeral and fights with best friends over cheap plastic jewelry.

Together they went back to the bed. The text book was still lying open. It was ignored in favor of Dr. Lumpy Bunny. She probably dozed off, but the light nock at the door woke her up.

“Can I come in, sweetie?” her dad asked from the other side of the door.

“Yeah, okay.”

The door opened. Her father came in. He was a big man, the type of big of someone that was once an athlete but is now getting a bit of a tummy. His hair was rapidly thinning on top. He squinted and probably needed glasses, but always refused to go get them. The most common thing to see him wearing was sports jerseys.

He looked unsure of himself. A man normally so loud and in charge was now looking small. He finally moved to the side of her bed and sat down on the edge.

“It’s Dr. Bunny. I haven’t seen him in a long time.”

“Dr. Lumpy Bunny, M.D.”

“Sorry, I meant Dr. Lumpy Bunny, M.D.,” he tried to smile at her. “I am worried about you. After the…you know… after the thing. You haven’t been the same. You’ve been jumpy, you’ve been struggling at school, you don’t leave the house, you’re friends have been coming by almost every day to ask about you.”

“I’m fine, Dad,” she said. It was a lie.

“You know, you might be. I might just be a stupid, old Dad that doesn’t really know much about teenage girls, but will you please just humor me?”

“What do you want?”

“I scheduled an appointment for you with a therapist. He specializes in victims of monster attacks. You don’t have to do anything but go and talk to him. If you decide you don’t want to go again then I won’t force you, but please, just once.”

She let go of Dr. Lumpy Bunny with her right hand, her left hand still held him close. With the free hand she reached out and grasped her father’s.

“Dad, I’m having trouble concentrating on studying. I have a make-up test and I don’t know what to do.”

He squeezed her hand tightly. “I’ll come in and speak to your teacher and I’ll try my best to help you study. I was never the best at school, but I can do my best to help you.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

For the first time since the monster attack she felt safe as she sat there and held onto her precious bunny and her loving father.


End file.
